The bottom of the blackest hole
by Isabella1020
Summary: This is a very dramatic oneshot about Izzie's feelings after George's death. Gizzie This is what I get from re-watching the season finale and listening to a lot of depressive music. XD Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.


**The bottom of the blackest hole.**

I ran a hand through my hair and sat up on the bed. Another day. Another stupid senseless day. Time was starting to piss me off. When I wanted it to go slow, it was faster and faster. Now that I needed it to speed up, it's going slow. Anyway, I've got nothing to do today so I just sit on the bed and let my mind think about what happened…

Last time I saw him in person, I asked him for advice. I asked him what to do because I didn't know if I should operate or try Swender's treatment. I was scared but, as always, he knew what to do and what to say to comfort me, to give me hope. He encouraged me to have the surgery. He told me that I had to fight the cancer, that I couldn't give up, that I was do-er. At these words, I cried in his shoulder but when I said goodbye, I didn't know it was the last time I saw him alive.

But of course, I saw him when the elevator's doors opened. He was there in his army uniform, smiling. He told me to press the down button and come back. He said that I had to go back with my husband and the people who love me. He said that I'd be okay. I couldn't say a single word. Lastly, he said that he loved me, he kissed me and pushed the down button himself, arguing that I was running out of time. He assured me again that I'd be okay and that he'd look after me before fading away

But he was wrong.

I'm not okay at all. At least psychologically. Stupid brain that gave me hallucinations when I didn't want them and not now when I need them. Stupid Sheperd who fixed up my brain. If I had the tumor, I could at least see him and escape from all this. But I'm healthy, my brain is tumor-free and everyone keeps saying that I'll be okay, that I'm fine now and frantically, I'm starting to get sick of that.

Oh, great! To top it all, here he is. Alex Karev, my 'beloved husband', who's coming again to see if I'm better. He sits besides me on the bed and tries to kiss me, to comfort me, but he can't. I reluctantly respond to his kiss, trying to be the lovely wife I'm supposed to be. But damn it! How am I supposed to do that if I can't stop thinking in someone else? How in hell can I love Alex if the only man I can love is George O' Malley?! Finally, I can't pretend anymore and I pull away, crying in desperation. Alex hesitates for a second and then, with a heavy sigh, he gets up and goes downstairs, when I'm sure he'll tell Meredith and Cristina about me –She's still acting like crazy-I guess he'll say and they'll probably answer: -She needs time. Leave her alone.

Now, I wanna make things clear. I'd really, really like to be myself again. I'd love to stop acting like crazy and I'd like to be a good wife who loves her husband, but I can't. I just can't, because since George died, there's a giant black hole in the middle of mi chest, and it hurts so badly, that it's turning me into a bitter, dark woman who I don't recognize myself in. Sometimes, the hole is so big that I can't even breathe.

_I can't love my husband_ because every time I look at him, I can't help by wishing that his eyes were blue, that his lips were full, that his hair was brown and messy instead of black and short, that her skin was pale instead of pinky. I can't love my husband because every time I look at him, I can't help by wishing he was George.

_Bambi. 007. Georgie. Curios George. O'Malley. George._ _**My George.**_

_I can't stop acting like crazy_ because I haven't slept in days due the fact that when I fall asleep I dream about my best friend, my soul mate and true love: George. As I consider that unfair for my husband, I decided not to sleep. I just lay on the bed and pretend I sleep, but I actually don't. (I know that by this time I must have violet circles under my eyes but I don't care).

Finally, _I can't be myself_ again because this hole in my chest is absorbing everything that makes me who I am: my joy, my sense of humor, my optimism. That's all gone. I think when George passed away, Izzie, the girl I used to be, died with him.

The pretty lonely girl from the trailer park. Dr Model. Denny's fiancé. The woman who risked her career to save the man she loved. The girl who fell in love with her best friend after spending a night with him.

That person doesn't exist anymore. All he left behind was me, Isobel Stevens-Karev. I'm stuck here, with this hole that's growing bigger by the day. I bury my head in the pillows to hide the tears and I bite my lip, too exhausted to go downstairs and explain everyone that, most likely, I won't ever be the same, I won't feel joy or happiness and they'll start to call _me_ the "dark and twisty". Because my happiness was hanging of a promise and George died so the promise of a future together that we had made saying "maybe someday" had broken.

Our happiness, my happiness, had died before it was born and it was too late to fix it. I was so tired of pretending that I was okay, that I almost wanted to shout "Stop asking me if I'm okay because _no_, I'm _not_ and I'll _neve_r be!"

So I'd just keep living, empty as a drum because my soul and my love had gone with the man that owned them. I'd just survive, as a ghost who refuses to leave the corpse, but it still would be hard because the hole in my chest hurts the same, and it'll be there 'till my heart stopped beating.

I'd just survive, trying pointlessly to repair somehow the hole that George's absence had left.


End file.
